Light of the New Moon
by anarchei
Summary: Druid in Gilneas is bitten by a wild worgen. This is the story of Ulfr, a kaldorei who has his life changed. But was it the bite, or something more?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Warcraft universe is a creation of Blizzard Entertainment, not me. I intend not to, nor am I making, any money from this work.

Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.

* * *

The persistent mist swirled and parted as an invisible force moved through the air, the sound of soft footfalls the only other disturbance in the otherwise dark silent forest. The leaves in the trees were still, with no wind they had no reason to rustle. The nocturnal insects were quiet, their chirps no longer welcome in the cursed woods. The moon, an ever constant companion to the creatures of the night, was hidden behind the clouds. The invisible being ceased its forward momentum. If anyone living were near, they would have heard the creature sniff the air. The damp atmosphere of the forest carried a scent that could not be confused with any other. A wild worgen was nearby.

Usually this would mean the beast would withdraw and call for aid, as his job was merely to scout ahead in search of quarry, but tonight he felt confident he could handle it on his own. He and his companion had wrestled with the cursed creatures before. In fact, it was their entire reason for been in Gilneas. An anonymous benefactor had financed their expedition here. Their goal was to capture any wild worgen they found and administer what passed for a cure to their curse. In so doing, the beasts would regain their humanity. They had succeeded on several occasions, and tonight would be no different. Except, the shape-shifted druid thought whimsically, he was going to do it alone this time. At least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, plans change. In the time the invisible cat had stood idle, lost in his thoughts, he had neglected to keep track of the world around him. The stench of a wild worgen pervaded his nostrils, which was the only warning he got before he was set upon. The spell of invisibility broken, the cat was forced to the ground by the weight of the cursed beast, the creature's claws raked across his sides as hot breath wafted passed his ears. Fear was all that drove him now. With all his strength the druid pushed hard against the ground and flung the worgen off his back. The beast yipped like an injured dog as his body slammed against a nearby tree trunk. With no desire to discover whether the worgen was capable of continuing the fight, the cat dashed away.

Trees and shrubs flashed by as the druid made his escape. Without the need for stealth his speed was greatly increased, however this also left him exposed to any dangers nearby. Worgen were not the only thing to fear in these woods. Adrenaline still pumped through the cat's system as he hurtled along, the druid's more bestial instincts in control as he ran from danger. Nearby, the howl of a cursed creature rose above the tops of the trees. The worgen had given chase. The feeling of fear peaked again, but this time tinged with hope. He was close to the camp he and his companion had made earlier that day. If he made it there, he would have a chance.

The druid's breath was short and his legs were beginning to feel the strain from the constant sprint through the forest. He would not last much longer. He could almost see the light of the camp fire when he was struck from the left. The cat had not thought of the possibility that worgen worked in packs. As the shape-shifted druid was tackled to the ground, he caught a glimpse of another cursed creature as it rushed toward him. He struggled to escape the clutches of the beast that had pinned him, but it was no use, he was exhausted from his flight through the woods. The other worgen slowed as he neared and eventually came to a halt before him. He knew what was to come, but he still clutched to his only thread of hope. If his friend had heard the commotion he would be here momentarily. He would be saved.

This fanciful dream was shattered when the worgen that stood before him crouched down. Coldly, and with malicious intent, the creature leaned in to sniff at the cat's exposed neck, its fangs bared. The druid would have snapped at the beast with his own fangs if the worgen that held him down had not thought to wrestle his head to the ground. There was a moment of hesitation as the crouched beast before him licked his chops, before he shot forward, muzzle wide open as he made contact with the cat's neck. Razor sharp incisors cut through flesh as the worgen bit down hard, the curse leached into the druid's system in a matter of seconds. Blood oozed from the punctures in his neck, a soft whimper all the cat could muster in the haze of pain, fear, and exhaustion. Thankfully, as soon as it began, it was over. The creatures released him swiftly and departed to vanish into the mist, their horrific task complete. The druid lay on his side, his fur drenched in blood and his entire body in agony, as unconsciousness crept up on him. He gladly welcomed the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Warcraft universe is a creation of Blizzard Entertainment, not me. I intend not to, nor am I making, any money from this work.

Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.

* * *

The trickle of water as it flowed against rock greeted the druid as he regained consciousness. He groaned as he sat up, the pain in his neck dulled somewhat. The flow of blood had ceased some time ago. He realised immediately that he was no longer in the form of a cat. He was kaldorei once more, for how long he did not know. The curse that now coursed through his body would eventually transform him into a monster.

The night elf raised his hand to feel the wound on his neck, his fingers tentatively traced along the marks left behind by the worgen's bite. It stung slightly at the touch, which drew a wince out of the usually tenacious druid. When he removed his hand he noticed that it was covered in blood. He could not let anyone see this, he did not want them to know. With this resolve in mind, he braced himself against a nearby tree in order to get back on his feet. The nearby stream would cleanse his body of the filth that stained it. The kaldorei almost stumbled as he took his first few steps, his strength greatly reduced in his weary state. He took a moment to regain his balance, then continued.

There was very little light beneath the canopy of the forest, however as a night elf he possessed sight that was the envy of diurnal beings. His eyes glowed a golden hue in the darkness of night, a beacon of light in an otherwise forsaken place. His long pointed ears were also of aid, as they helped the druid locate the source of the sound that indicated an aqueous flow. Grateful that he had made his way without further hinderance, the night elf emerged from the trees. He carefully removed his clothing until he was naked, his toned body exposed to the crisp night air. The kaldorei waded barefoot into the flow of water, the smooth stones beneath his feet caressed his skin as they slithered about under the force of his weight. He crouched down and quickly splashed himself with the cool liquid. He carefully rubbed away at the congealed blood on his neck and shoulder until it vanished into the flow of the stream. All that remained as evidence of a fight were feint lines in this pale blue skin where he had been bitten and scratched. Satisfied, and somewhat refreshed, he exited the water and quickly clothed himself, unconcerned that his dry clothes were dampened by his still wet body.

The druid set off in the direction of the camp he and his companion had established earlier that day. Twigs and dead leaves were crushed beneath the elf's feet as he ambled through the woods, his concern not for the danger of another worgen attack but rather for what his friend would think of him when it was discovered he was now cursed. The time to make a plan was short, for in the distance he could make out the glow of a campfire between the trunks of the trees. Without any excuse prepared, he stepped into the small clearing.

In the centre of the camp was a modest fire, just enough to keep those nearby warm. A medium tent was erected nearby. Of human design, it was a simple triangular prism, the white fabric stood out against the natural greens and browns of the forest. Beside the fire sat another kaldorei, the druid's friend.

"Oregos," the night elf greeted, his eyes betrayed the concern that his otherwise passive face withheld. "I was beginning to worry, you have been gone a while. Did you have any trouble?"

"No, Kalo, no trouble," Oregos lied, his head turned away slightly to hide the bite marks on his neck. "I needed to bathe, that's all. Took longer than I thought it would."

"I see," Kalo nodded with understanding. "Care for something to eat? I know how hungry you get after scouting."

"No, I'm fine. I'm actually kind of tired. I think I'll get some rest."

Kalo's forehead furrowed slightly, but nodded his head anyway. "If you think it's best. Sleep well my friend."

It pained him to lie to Kalo like that, but he could not see any other option. As much as this people wanted to help the worgen, they were still uneasy about them. Many secretly feared that they may become a worgen themselves and so distanced themselves from the beasts in order to prevent such an eventuality. No matter how open they were about making amends, that fear remained ever present. Oregos knew he did not have long until he transformed. He wanted to say something that would be appropriate, something that conveyed how much he would miss their friendship without revealing the truth.

"Good night," was all he could muster.


End file.
